Page 113 of Damaged Mogul

So that settles that.

I didn’t even want to come to LA, and I was dreading spending time with one of my father’s connections. But something tells me it’s going to be impossible to forget Gage.

I sigh.

A strong hand closing over my thigh forces me out of my rumination.

“Earth to Lily.”

My eyes fly up to meet Gage’s.

“Where were you? I was talking, and the music is playing in the background. Still, you were a continent away.”

“Sorry if I didn’t hear what you said. I was swept away by the breathtaking scenery.” It’s a partial lie. “Photos and videos of the City of Angels don’t do it justice. This is the polar opposite to New York’s concrete jungle.”

He shoots me a dubious gaze.

I respond with an innocent smile.

Gage has been playing the role of tour guide, pointing out landmarks and providing me with Travelocity-worthy facts as we drive around LA. I was a captive audience until we stopped at a traffic light and my eyes landed on a young couple waiting on the sidewalk, kissing with passion. Instantly, I was transported to last night. From there, my overactive mind unraveled.

“If there’s something else you’d rather do, say the word.”

“You mean something other than driving in a pricey navy-blue Wiesmann GT MF4—a sports car I had never heard of until I climbed into it—with the top down, on a spectacular and sunny day, zooming towards the Malibu coast with the most attractive chaperone I’ve ever had?” I shake my head. “Nah. This is good.”

“I’ve been demoted to chaperone?”

“Chaperone. Bodyguard.” I shrug “Same thing.”

He swings those mesmerizing wintergreen eyes my way, an eyebrow cocked.“I’ve been demoted after I made you comeyour head off in the shower? If you need me to pull over right this minute so I can remind you I’m far more than a chaperone or bodyguard, I’m happy to oblige.”

Shower sex when the guy is standing up and he’s lifting you in his arms is so damn hot. Another feather in Gage’s sexy cap and another reason for my euphoric Saturday morning.

A wave of lust sweeps through me, causing my nipples to pebble and goosebumps to raise on my arms.

Down, girl.

I just discovered sex, and now I can’t live without it?

My face bursts into flames.

What’s wrong with me?

“Your cheeks are flushing.”

Busted.

“That’s a little caveman-ish.” My voice is weak.

“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it.”

In what parallel universe did I think I was a match for this man?

He has enough balls––literally and figuratively––to do it, too.

Best not to start something I can’t finish. I keep quiet not to worsen my case.

A few orgasms, and I’m Superwoman.